His grumble of outrage rolled my eyes to the cavernous ceiling. So sayeth the beast who believed he owned me.
I submerged my head, rinsing the bubbles from my curly locks, then drew the length over my shoulder, squeezing water from the strands. “Don’t pretend Thorne didn’t tell you he discovered I was a slave.” No doubt he’d run straight to the dragon with the news, eager to point out how worthless his captive was.
“Dragons do not pretend,”Alaric stated, sounding offended.“Thorne failed to disclose that information.”
“Did he now?” Strange. What game did Thorne play? Did he think to hold it over me and use it at some later date? If so, I’d thwarted his plan.
“And what of the mark on the back of your neck?”Alaric asked, the words stiff, a strange tension creeping into his massive frame.
In reflex, I slapped my palm over the raised scar, hiding the brand. “Saw that, did you?”
“At the lake.”
That long ago? And unlike the Puritans, he hadn’t burned me at the stake, fearful it was the mark of evil or some nonsense like that. Trusting that I was safe from his flames, I lowered my hand.
“The symbol emerged on my last birthday. Given how cautious the Puritans are about things that are odd or unnatural, I haven’t shown it to anyone.”
“And you’ve no idea why it appeared.”Again, the unnerving tension entered his words.
“Nope,” I said, popping myp. “But I recognize the shape. It’s Goddess Hathor’s sigil.” I picked up a molded disk of herbal soap, running it over my arms.
“And it’s the only symbol you’ve noted?”
Other than the red sacris flowers, which I had no intention of discussing. “All I know is that so far, nothing good has come of it.” I propped my foot on a stone, soaping up my leg. “I’m just glad it wasn’t more visible, or the high ruler would have seen it and had me burned.”
After scrubbing my body, I rinsed again before heading to the entrance of the pool. “Eyes on the wall, mister.” Once Alaric obliged, I waded out.
“There are few people who would dare to give me orders,”he grumbled.
I glanced at my filthy clothes on the floor, the chill in the room making goosebumps rise on my skin. “What are the odds there are towels stashed in here somewhere?” My teeth started to chatter, and Alaric cast me a glance over his shoulder.
“Hey!” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I forgot mortals need things like towels,”he huffed, sounding annoyed, but more with himself than me for once.“Sit on the rock with your back to me.”
I frowned at the request but did as he said. My bare ass had barely hit the stone when a gentle gust of hot air rushed over my skin.
“What the…” I glanced at the dragon to find light beneath his scales once again glowing, only this time the light was faint. “You’re not planning to roast me, are you?” He did say nobody ordered him around.
“I’m merely ensuring you do not catch a chill and become ill.”He exhaled a long, slow breath, the hot air drying my goosebump-covered flesh.
Okay, perhaps he was a gentleman. After all, I’d never been so pampered. Despite the strangeness of the situation—bathing in an underground chamber with a dragon as my attendant—I was rather relaxed.
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“There’s no reason for us to be enemies when we can be friends.”
“Friends, huh?” The dragon was up to something. First, the bath, then his interest in my life, and now the offer of friendship. I’d go along with it until I figured out what he truly wanted. Maybe once he got it, he’d let me go, like all the others.
“Do you think we can try?”
“Sure,” I muttered in a less-than-enthusiastic tone, not bothering to remind him of the whole master and captive situation.
“Is this what the pair of you do when I’m not here?” Thorne’s voice echoed from the entrance of the cave, sharp and mocking. “Sit around braiding each other’s hair?” I whipped my head about to find him leaning against the wall, an antagonistic expression on his face. His heated gaze slid over me where I perched on my rock, taking in every naked curve.
